


Can I Hold Your Hand?

by Fufflebumps (Pippip_hurray)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Empath, Established Relationship, F/M, Gabrinette - Freeform, Guilt, Hope, Unresolved, age gap, conflicted feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 19:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12871824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippip_hurray/pseuds/Fufflebumps
Summary: There was news... Twelve years since her disappearance, nine years since they had last followed up about any leads. Five and a half years since he'd stopped his quest for the miraculouses... [Marinette] didn't know what it would mean [for them], either, but she knew what it could mean.





	Can I Hold Your Hand?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains a relationship between two adults with a significant age difference. If this is not something you want to read, I direct you to utilize the back button and find a story about characters that will bring you enjoyment.
> 
> Unbeta'd.
> 
> I hope you DO enjoy this, however! If so, leave a kudos and a comment. Acceptable comments range from analysis to keyboard mashing to punctuation and emojis/emoticons. I love interacting with my readers!
> 
> TL;DR: DL;DR: Enjoy!

There was news.

 

Anique.

 

They'd found her- or they thought they had. The police would be here this afternoon to talk to him for the first time in years. Twelve years since her disappearance, nine years since they had last followed up about any leads. Five and a half years since he'd stopped his quest for the miraculouses. The case was long cold. Hope of ever knowing what had happened and if she would ever return had become comatose. Some part of him was always frozen in anticipation of some closure. Would he finally have it?

He could not be still, but he also couldn't focus long enough to accomplish anything with work. Back and forth. Fairly wearing the fibers of the carpeting in a tell tale path, he paced the length of his bedroom. Their bedroom. Not his and Anique's. His and Marinette's- Marinette who was mercifully and unmercifully away, working on some project. It was the room they'd shared for the past year and a half. And here he was, agonizing over the possible return of his wife in the room he shared with the woman he had begun to hope to make his wife.

The unassuming box sat patiently at the back of one of his drawers. What would he do? What could he do?

He felt her before he saw her. Her warmth. Her concern for him. Her love. A hum of uncertainty and fear underpinned all of it. She didn't know what it would mean, either, but she knew what it could mean. They had come so far together. They were building something beautiful from the wreck of their beginning. He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his face in his hands, a wave of exhaustion crashing over him. Was it hers or his? She was just standing there outside the door.

“Gabriel?” she called softly as she opened the door. “A-are you alright?”

He said nothing, only inhaling deeply and exhaling with a shudder. No. He was anything but okay. The mattress compressed next to him.

“Me either,” she said, now beside him. Every cell cried out for her comforting touch, to be held, to be caressed. And he wanted her far away from him. It was agony. “Adrien's on his way, and the police will be here soon.” She was quiet for a moment. Still he said nothing. “Gabriel.” She said his name like it was her favorite song. He didn't have to look at her to know her face would be firmly determined despite the gentleness of her tone. “Do you want me there? I want to be there for you and Adrien, but I'll stay away if...” _If you don't want me._ That's what she was afraid of. He'd have known even if he wasn't wearing the miraculous. But he did want her, and that was the problem. He wanted her more than he felt he had a right to want her.

For the last several hours, he'd thought over every conceivable possibility and probability of his upcoming conversation with the authorities. Guilt ate at him for even considering that Anique's death would be the best possible outcome. Then he wouldn't feel like he had to choose. Not again. And Marinette's heart wouldn't be aching with the potential that it might soon be broken- by him, the man she had entrusted with it even after he had tried to destroy her those years ago. That would mean that Adrien would never see his mother again, though, and that hurt too.

He lifted his head from his hands, lowering his forearms to his thighs. The hand nearest her he turned palm up. “Can I-” he sighed and drew in another breath, still not looking at her- “Can I hold your hand?”

Silently, she placed her hand in his, letting his fingers lace through hers in a gentle embrace. Her affection washed through him. Ever his little hero, she would be resolved to help him even if it caused her pain. He watched their hands together. His thumb drew little circles against her skin. Swallowing was painful.

“I need you to be there, Marinette. Adrien, he-” Was the tightening in the chest his or hers? He sighed. “Please, I want you...” his voice cracked. “To be there.”

She squeezed his hand. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“Whatever they have to say, I want you to know-”

She cut him off with the unexpected pressure of her lips against the corner of his mouth. “Let's find out what they know first, okay?” she said just above a whisper.

He pursed his lips and nodded. His declarations could wait. They wouldn't be less true later.

Her phone rang. “Yes? Thank you, Nathalie. We'll be down in a moment.” Disconnecting the call, she turned to him, “They're here.”

Standing, he didn't let go of her hand. They walked that way all the way down to the foyer where the police and Adrien were waiting.

 

 


End file.
